


Marriage Madam

by StellaAuteur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Banter, F/M, Humor, Marriage Law Challenge, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2020-12-13 16:36:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21000791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaAuteur/pseuds/StellaAuteur
Summary: The Ministry has forced through a law requiring purebloods to marry non-purebloods and requiring all wizards and witches between 18-40 to have children under set timeframe perimeters. Hermione Granger, having recently left the Ministry in a truly explosive fit of rage, is itching for a fight. The Ministry’s matchmakers have some freelance completion. If people are being forced to marry and procreations, they’ll want to choose from the best. And there’s a new Marriage Madam in town.





	1. Poking holes & pouring hot tea

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, I was looking for a marriage doc to read and felt like I’d read them all or wanted a twist. So I decided to write my own. Be warned - I haven’t prewritten this and don’t know where it will go so update schedule may be slow.

They’d done it. Those moronic, good for nothing, “brains would fall out if they weren’t sewn it” imbeciles had done it. They’d managed to pass the most insulting, infuriating, civil liberties stripping law that Hermione had ever seen. And they’d done it in less time than their previously stated time deadline. 

Beyond the fact that the “Reintegration and Population Edict” was anti-privacy, anti-freedom, and seemingly pro-rape (“marry and have sex with someone potentially not of your choosing who we assigned to you and you just met even though you don’t want to!!!!!!) ... it was also incredibly poorly written. It took Hermione all of one reading to poke holes in it. 

She was now on her fourth reading, her muggle pen in hand, taking notations, and poking more holes. Poke. Poke. Poke. The law was beginning to look like Swiss cheese. 

“Hermione, where are you?”

”In here, Harry - tea’s on.”

Harry in the morning might have been one of Hermione's most favorite things. It’s one of the reasons she still lived at Grimmauld. Just to see Harry stumble down the stairs with his hair especially ruffled (and high up - how did it reach such heights?!). 

It was like the muggle movie A Sound of Music where the children sing lists of their favorite things. Harry in the morning. The smell of parchment. A pair of truly high stilettos (a post Hogwarts discovery - the power shoe). A perfectly made cup of tea. An undiscovered book store. A perfect romp in the sack. 

“Did you solve all of Wizarding England’s woes already?”

”Nearly there, Harry, nearly there.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his eyes finally coming into focus under his glasses and peered over at Hermione’s workspace which covered the kitchen table. 

“You realize you don’t work at the Ministry anymore, don’t you? You remember you stormed out in a particularly memorable fashion?”

”I didn’t storm. I made a statement.”

”You poured a cup of hot tea on Cormac MacLaggen’s head.”

”He deserved it.”

”Without question.”

”You also- “

”We don’t need to revisit it, Harry. The Daily Prophet covered it quite thoroughly. Also, if I did still work at the Ministry, there’s no way this pile of dung would be law.”

”Mione, I’m not sure even you could have stopped this.”

”I’m not saying I could have stopped it. It was well in motion. I’m just saying I would have ensured it wasn’t a complete pile of dung. The writing is atrocious and the content even worse. But I’ve found some loopholes we can utilize.”

”Utilize how? What are you getting me into, Mione? Unlike you, I still work at the Ministry.”

”Can you book me a room at the Leaky for tonight? And we’ll need to gather a group of Hogwarts alumni. Range of years. All Houses. Can you get Ginny on it? Everyone likes her. Maybe George too?”

”On it.”

And with that, they jumped over the cliff. 


	2. Leaky Liaisons

Ginny glanced around the Leaky Cauldron and smirked in satisfaction. Say what you want about her, but she could still draw a crowd. Only half a day’s notice and she and George had managed to gather half of Hogwarts from their years ... or at least it felt that way from the way they were all squished into the crowded pub. 

And the men of Hogwarts had grown up well. Ginny was no fool. She’d noticed the looks that passed over her trim ankles, up her toned Quidditch legs, and over her copper hair. She’d finally grown her hair long enough to let it hang in loose curls down her shoulders - when it wasn’t thrown up in a ponytail for sporting. If the appreciative glances of the Hogwarts alumni were any indication, they liked seeing her hair down. 

“Hey Gin.” Harry drew her in, with his usual, familiar hug. 

“Hey Harry.”

”You’re looking well.”

”You’re looking _worried_.”

”Can’t be helped. Hermione’s been up since before the sun working on whatever plan she’s cooked up. Now she has us all here.” Harry shrugged. 

“Harry?”

”Yeah?”

”Release the paws, would you? We’ve got an audience and I’d rather not look so ... taken.”

Harry looked bewildered for a moment and then let Ginny out of his still half-lingering hug. 

“Sorry. Habit. And you’re the perfect height to rest a butterbeer on your shoulder, did you know?”

”Shut your pie hole.”

Even though they hadn’t been “together” strictly speaking for years, they’d stay close. Some would argue too close. Some would say that falling into each other’s beds for a rough and wild sex romp on occasion was a bad habit that needing breaking. But if kept the Harry Potter fangirls and the Quidditch groupies away, it worked for them. Scratched an itch that needed scratching. 

It was when it scared away the other prey that it was a problem. 

“Got your eye on anyone in particular?” Harry asked, glancing at the assembled crowd. “Surprised at the number of Slytherins you managed to get to show up.”

”They were the easiest catch. The purebloods are more impacted by this law than anyone.”

Across the pub, Harry saw Draco Malfoy leaning against the back wall. His stance was casual like he had not a care in the world. But when Harry looked close, he could see that his arms were strained, his hands clenched tight. He was waiting, coiled. Like a snake about to strike. 


	3. Liquor up

“Good evening,” Hermione greeted the assembled crowd. “I have a few opening remarks and I’d ask you to hold your questions until after I finish. Please quiet down and we will begin shortly. Grab a drink and get settled.” 

A few moments later, Hermione and Harry were able to finally quiet the room with the help of Ron. He was subtle as ever, yelling “Oi!” and whistling at the crowd loudly to get their attention. 

“Thank you all for coming. Before we begin, a few things. Anyone who chooses to stay will be asked to sign a binding confidentiality agreement. This is non-negotiable and if you are unwilling, I would ask that you leave now. Furthermore, I see that you are hiding in the back corner, Cormac. Get out.”

The crowd tittered with excitement, the long-standing feud between Hermione and Cormac having been well covered by the Daily Prophet over the years. Their explosive blowout fight at the Ministry a few months back was the stuff of legends and no one had seen them together since.

”I have every right to be here, Granger.”

”This is an invitation only meeting, Cormac, and I don’t recall inviting you.”

“Hermione- “

”Out before I hex your arse.”

Cormac got up incredibly slowly and inched his way to the door. “Fine. But you know someone here will tell me what you’re up to anyway.”

”Hence the binding confidentiality agreement. Let’s see who wants a hex this time. Remember the sneak hex from Dumbledore’s Army? That was child’s play.”

Cormac stormed out in a huff and Hermione scanned the remaining people in the room. 

“I want to thank you all for coming. I’d like to review the key points of the law recently passed by the Ministry. Harry’s here to ensure I don’t speak in too much legalese.” 

“What the bloody hell is legalese?” Ron muttered.

”Dumb it down, Mione,” Harry said 

“Too many big words and Ministry talk,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

”Weasel can sit next to me if he needs a big boy translator,” Malfoy scoffed.

”Stay focused, please.” Hermione shot both Ron and Malfoy a dirty look, shutting down any potential confrontation. 

“Cmon, Mione, my drink’s half gone.” Harry prompted.

“Very well. I’m going to go over the basic tenets - well, that means - rules - of the law. I’ll explain how it would apply to each of you. I have some thoughts about how to work around some of the issues of the law to best live our lives. Before I share those thoughts, I’m going to take a brief break. I will ask you to sign a binding confidentiality agreement before I share those private thoughts with you. At that time, you can either - leave without hearing what I think or stay, sign the agreement, and hear what I have to say. Questions?”

”Yeah. Can we liquor up again before we hear how the Ministry is going to force us to shag and marry each other?” Malfoy drawled.

Hermione let her eyes run up his taut, lean, seeker’s body wondering who would end up jumping into bed with it. “By all means. Grab another round and then let’s talk law.”


	4. Is there pie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! My tablet broke and I was trying to type chapters in my phone but the writing sucked and it was so hard to get into a flow. Here we go!

"Okay, everyone! Let's talk about RAPE!" Hermione smiled, excitedly. Lavender Brow sputtered the foamy chai butterbeer latte she'd been sipping on, one of the muggle-wizarding hybrids that was all the rage post-war. She coughed uncontrollably and watched with dismay as it spilled all down her rose covered camisole.

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes when she saw that Lavender managed to check to see if Malfoy noticed her faux pas before even reaching for a napkin. Some hopeless crushes never died. Tit bit cold for a camisole though. 

"Bloody hell, Mione! Why are you going on about rape? Thought we were here to talk about the marriage law! Did you trick us into joining another one of your causes? Because if we're saving house elves or centaur land or talking about rape, there really ought to be an open bar. Or pie. Is there pie?"

"No, Ronald - "

"R.A.P.E. not rape. The Reintegration and Population Edict. The acronym is a gift, frankly. We ought to send a thank you bouquet to whatever dunderhead came out with that and didn't catch it." Malloy drawled, holding his tense pose against the back wall. 

"That would be Dunderhead Percy Weasley and his bouquet is on the way. I sent him a framed photo of the headline of my opposition. The Daily Prophet tomorrow will read 'War Herione Hermione Granger opposes RAPE! Will Percey Weasley stand with RAPE like he stood with You Know Who's Ministry Takeover?"

Draco just cocked an eyebrow and gave her what the muggles would call a "guy nod" of respect.

"Blimey, Mione, I guess Percey's not coming round for Sunday dinner for awhile," Ron moaned.

"Serves him right. Trying to breed people like mares." Ginny scoffed. "Go on, then, Mione. Let's talk RAPE."

"Right then. The law is made up of components that apply to each individual respective to their blood status."

" English, Hermione."

"Oh sweet Merlin, Potter. She's speaking perfectly fine. It anyone can't understand her, maybe they should stay after school for additional tutoring. Asking Granger to stop every three words to translate her genius into crumbs for the kiddos to pick up is a waste of time and energy. It's like asking the sun not to shine. She can't do it. For Circe's sake, we all CAME here to see her do her insane mad potioneer rant! Let her do it!"

Harry was stunned into silence and Lavender looked at Malfoy flabbergasted, her biscuit crumbling in her hand all over her recently Scourgioed blouse.

If Hermione was honest, his rant had got her a little hot under the collar herself.

"Alright then. Thank you, Draco. How about I just talk and if you have questions as I go, you go ahead and ask them. Right then.

RAPE dictates that if you are a pureblood witch or wizard, you must marry AND produce children with a NON pureblood witch or wizard. They can be either halfblood or muggleborn. They must have at least half muggle blood. Purebloods have one year to be compliant in the marriage but must meet with the Ministry monthly to provide status updates on progress on potential matches. The potential ranges of punishment for noncompliance range from house arrest to forfeiture of family vaults, assets, and property to sentences in Azkaban or the stripping of magic. The expressed intention is to develop relationships across blood lines to prevent future conflicts.

For halfbloods, you must contribute to the repopulation efforts by producing children. You are NOT required to enter marriages to do so. The reasoning laid out for the distinction is that there can be a great degree of difficulty in dissolving a magical marriage, should the parties agree to do so. They do not want to force halfbloods to undergo those challenges if they do not choose to marry. They have offered marriage incentives, financial and otherwise, for those who choose to marry, but it is not required. You may choose a partner for procreation from any blood status but you have a very short window of four months in which to choose, demonstrate reproductive compatibility, and comply. If you choose to match with a pureblood partner, there are significant incentives. If you do not meet the timeframes and guidelines given by the Ministry, they will match you, overwhelming likely to a pureblood candidate.

For muggleborn witches and wizards, the process is the same as for halfbloods with some major exceptions. The Ministry has expressed that due to prior persecution during the War, from the registration lists to Snatchers to muggle families being hunted, you have earned some preferential treatment in this process. You have a longer time period to be compliant - one year. You have preference in all matches, meaning that if you and a halfblood or pureblood both pick the same match, your choice will win. Lastly, if you match with a pureblood, you will have equal ownership of the family vaults, heirlooms, and any and all property associated with the family name provided that you marry and produce children."

Hermione looked out across the stunned faces of her former classmates. The only one who looked not stunned at all was Draco. In all likelihood, he was honestly the only one in the room who could have understood the law on a first reading the way she did.

For a moment, she pondered what it would have been like to have him sitting across from her at the table at Grimmauld Place, papers spread out, quill in hand, challenging her ideas.

Would his hair be mussed for once in her perfectly coiffed life? Her legs tightened at the thought of it. She'd be lying if she hadn't gotten tiniest bit wet.

"Right then, I'll take your questions," Hermione said, a bit breathlessly, eyes deadlocked on steely grey ones across the bar. 


	5. Cormac deserved it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lengthy delay -we were getting a new tablet with a keyboard and I just can't type on the mobile phone the same way. Here we go!

Hermione was exhausted. The meeting at the Leaky had gone better than expected, quite frankly. On such short notice, she'd hoped for a decent turnout.

She ought to have known better. Ginny and George had always been able to draw a crowd and the added promise of the "Golden Trio" and Hermione's brilliant mind was enough to pack the Leaky to the brim.

Almost the entire crowd stayed past her initial explanation of the RAPE breakdown, signed the non-disclosure agreements, and waited to her what the "brightest witch of their age" had to offer them. It wasn't a surprise, really. They were terrified.

And what did she have to offer, really? Not much more than she had fought viciously for when she worked at the Ministry. Some battles had been lost already, unfortunately. She'd wanted a longer roll out period - that ship had sailed. She'd argued that halfbloods were being unfairly punished with a shorter compliance period - that too had been lost and sealed into the bill that passed.

But there was still plenty of room to be won. Hermione wanted to ensure that if they were being forced to match (either for marriage or for procreation), the matches were of the utmost compatibility, happiness, and potential for either long-term success or short-term agree-ability.

Here, the Ministry had failed them. The Powers that Be had passed their RAPE dictate with little to no concern for the well being of those impacted. To be sure, they themselves _were not impacted_. They were old, mostly married, members of the Wizengamot, who wouldn't be touched by this edict.

When Hermione had raised the issues of matching (quite ferociously), she had been quite condescendingly patted on the hand, or back, or one time - quite unwisely - on the thigh, and assured she would receive a fine match.

And then it happened. As Hermione sat in the highest levels of the Ministry launching a presentation on matching compatibility, Cormac Bloody McLaggen interrupted her. Again. To remind her. In front of a full conference room of all men, the majority of them pureblood or old wizarding money. That he was a pureblood and he would _gladly offer for her and provide her with many sons so she "really ought not worry your pretty little head, Hermione."_

And that was it. She poured an entire carafe of hot tea over his head and said "you all can fuck yourselves on your own dicks. I'm going to fight you til my last breath and I'm taking my entire generation with me. Go to hell."

The head of her department had the wherewithal to realize that there were be an outrage that they had lost Hermione Granger over the completely inappropriate borderline continued sexual harassment of idiot Cormac McLaggen and called after her. "Hermione, wait!"

"You think Voldemort had something to fear from me when I got organized and strategized? I was a child then. You can try to get ready for me and what's happening next but it's honestly a waste of your time and resources. If I was you, I would take a nap. Go to the movies, maybe. You don't stand a goddamn chance. When you're ready to apologize and deal, come find me. Until then, stay out of my way."

With that, she cast an eye on a wailing Cormac and rolled her eyes. "I'd suggest someone throw a healing charm towards the sexual deviant before he breaks something."

***

That had been mere weeks ago, but it felt like ages.

Hermione had thought the news coverage would paint her more unstable, but outside of Rita Skinner's predictable spin, it seemed to focus more on the Ministry. It became part of a larger story on how the Ministry was out of touch with real witches and wizards and their issues. "How Could the Ministry Let Granger Go?" read one headline. "Is the Ministry Dumber without it's Resident Genius?" read another.

Hermione started at a knock on her bedroom window at Grimmauld. Pretty late for an owl.

From one look, she knew it was from Malfoy. The Malfoy owls were a sight to see - they looked like their masters. Elegant, pale white, regal. The script clutched in it's long talons was practiced pureblooded perfection.

_Granger, _

_You're on the right track, but you can't do this all yourself. Pothead is bright, but not enough for this. Don't get me started on Weasley. You need reinforcements and you don't have time to translate as you go. _

_I can start tomorrow morning, but think privacy is paramount. Are you working at Grimmauld or elsewhere? If you open the floo at Grimmauld, I can be there at 9. I have some texts in the Malfoy Library that I believe will aid us. _

_Let me know the arrangements. We don't have time for a lengthy debate about this. You know I'm the best one for this._

_Draco_

_P.S. Try not to make any hot tea. Just in case _

Hermione had to give him this - he was bold. And he wasn't wrong. She did need help ... and she couldn't think of a sharper, stronger analytical mind. Not since Severus Snape had passed. He was smart to tempt her with the legendary Malfoy Library.

_Malfoy,_

_Come at 9:30. I'm tired from the idiotic questions tonight. No promises on the tea - we'll see how it goes tomorrow. Please bring the texts and breakfast. I'm not a cook when I'm in research mode. _

_See you tomorrow. _

_H_

_P.S. Cormac deserved it._


	6. The mouth on you, Granger!

Hermione stumbled into the kitchen, grumbling. She'd ended up staying up well past 4am, researching in both arthimacy and muggle texts.

"Espresso!" she barked at Harry, who was already sitting cross legged at the long, farmer style table in the kitchen sipping tea.

He pointed his wand at the N'espresso machine they were gifted by their American Ministry counterparts. They'd rigged it to work with wands and to fill and dispose of espresso automatically, It was Hermione's favorite gift, but had also fueled her caffeine addiction to borderline unhealthy levels.

"What time did you finally go to bed and stop with your incessant researching?" Harry asked.

"What time did you finally go to bed and stop with your incessant fucking of Ginny?" Hermione responded.

"Seriously, Mione? We have silencing charms and you never even saw her."

"You're predictable. And honestly, sometimes when I think I'm right, I like to remove your silencing charms to prove myself right."

"You don't think that's borderline invasive and perverted?"

"I put them back up once I prove my point. And please - like we all haven't walked in on one another at some point."

"Fair enough," Harry shrugged. "It's not my fault anyway. You got her all worked up anyway. All that talk last night about procreation and marriage. Plus all those Slytherins at the Leaky. You know Ginny's always swung a little bit Green."

"I know - I was half surprised she didn't go home with one of them."

"I think she was thinking about it but didn't want to taint a possible marriage prospect."

"You both aren't - ?"

"Come off it, Mione. Ginny and I are a lot of things, but future husband and wife were ruled out a long time ago."

"Okay." Hermione accioed her espresso, blew on it and began gulping it down eagerly.

"Blimey, Granger, if you were wearing shorts like that no wonder Cormac proposed in front of the whole goddamn Ministry." Draco's slow cold drawl interrupted them and Hermione suddenly coughed on her espresso, half stuck in her throat.

"Mione - why is there a Malfoy in my kitchen?" Harry asked, suddenly glancing down at his bare chest and boxers.

"Don't worry, Potter, it's not your arse I'm distracted by." Malfoy cocked an eyebrow, his eyes sweeping over Hermione.

"Fuck. I forgot. Bugger it all."

"The mouth on you, Granger. It's getting me hot and bothered." Draco said.

"Harry, Malfoy is helping with the RAPE stuff. Malfoy - I obviously ... was not aware of the time."

Hermione gave herself a once over and realized she was still in the skimpiest of her sleep shorts - a lavender and rose floral number paired with a matching tank.

"I brought pastries for breakfast, Granger, but with what you're wearing, I could easily be talking into switching."

"And that's my cue to leave and vomit." Harry rolled his eyes. "Enjoy your nerd session. I'll never be getting an erection again ever."

"Right then ... let me just ... get changed."

Unfortunately for Draco, Hermione changed into muggle jeans and a pullover. Unbeknownst to her, this was Draco's version of a fetish and he lost concentration for the better part of an hour, particularly when she leaned over the table for a second cup of espresso.


	7. Shut UP, Malfoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get back on the saddle! Sorry for the delay - but thanks for the recent comments. Definitely helps encourage me to keep moving. I wasn't sure where I wanted this to go, but I'm figuring it out. Thanks for comments and kudos!

"So what's the big plan, then, Granger? I know you've done the math. You know the law is necessary."

"I'm aware. I'm not _trying_ to overturn it or repeal it."

"_Really?" _Draco arched one eyebrow impeccably. 

_It really was sinful how perfectly he did that, _Hermione thought.

She remembered a tall tale from Hogwarts about how Malfoy had once gotten a Fifth Year to drop her robes simply by arching his eyebrow. At the time, Hermione had told the entire Gryffindor table in the Great Hall that it "was absolute bollocks and not worth the breath of air worth repeating!"

But now, seeing him doing it as an adult ... when Hermione was half an espresso into curing a hangover ... she wasn't sure.

"The numbers are right. I cross-checked the Arithmancy myself for the Minister. We need the numbers. Re-population is a must."

"Alright. And my family tree alone can attest that failing to mix bloodlines leads to stillbirths, miscarriages, and the general creation of fucktards, rageaholics, and psychopaths."

"While ... succinct - you are _not_ incorrect. The mixing of blood heritages is also necessary at this time."

"So again, I ask - what's the big plan, then, Granger?"

"I have no objection to the basic tenets of the law. The execution of it, however, is positively medieval. I refuse to be led like a sheep to slaughter, with no choice in the matter whatsoever. Particularly when the consequences of an ill-fated and involuntarily match are a potentially lifelong connection or marriage to someone with whom I'm bearing children. If I _don't want_ a broken home or to be separated at least part time from my children, I'm committing to that unchosen partnership at least until my children reach majority. These consequences are undesirable. These choices of matches cannot be made lightly."

Draco watched Hermione spout off between his narrowed steel gray eyes, suspiciously. There was a long pause after she'd finished, where Hermione was almost panting in her fervor. Draco burst out into near hysterical laughter.

"Bloody hell, Granger, are you sure you aren't a pureblood?"

"What?!? Of course not! Why?"

"You sound like my mother! Spouting off the importance of the proper match and the consequences of an ill conceived one. Are you sure you didn't attend the last meeting of the Snooty Pureblood Mating Rituals Society? Or the How to Marry Off Your Former Death Eater Spawn Convention?" Draco snickered. "Have you read one too many copies of the Pureblood Courting Rituals Handbook?"

"Oh shove a scone where the sun doesn't shine, Malfoy!" Hermione groaned, slamming her hungover head down on the wooden kitchen table. "I'm still hungover from my 4am research party last night."

"Who else was there?"

"Where?"

"Your 4am research party?"

"Just me. Me, myself and I, Malfoy."

"And yet, you call it a party?"

"Well, there was alcohol and I was naked, so ... shut up."

Draco's head spun sharply to lock eyes with Hermione. _Fuck. Bugger, Shit. Arse. Get it TOGETHER, Man._

"Naked. Why - who the bloody hell researches naked?" Draco sputtered.

"I got silk sheets for Christmas last - NONE OF YOUR BLOODY BUSINESS MALFOY!!!" Granger shrieked.

It took a hangover potion for Hermione, a headache potion for Draco (and a subtle de-erection spell), and another round of tea and espresso for both before they were able to get back on track.

"Okay, let's try again. So the plan is to not fight the necessity of the law, but to attack the execution." Draco began again.

"Yes. And the beautiful part is - those ass hats at the Ministry didn't prohibit matches outside of the Ministry. They only said that if you were non-compliant within your timeframe, you had to notify the Ministry and seek guidance or matching through them as your deadline was nearing or expiring. But up until that time, you are able to match any way you please, so long as it is with a person meeting the appropriate blood status for your match."

"And let me guess **how** that loophole was left in there?" Draco smiled, nodding at Hermione.

"I _may have argued_ that the law would receive more public support if _couples in existing relationships_ were allowed to choose their own matches without Ministry interference." Hermione shrugged innocently.

"But _anyone_ can match without Ministry interference, not just couples in relationships." Draco cocked his head at Hermione questioningly.

"Oops. Did I leave the wording vague, open-ended and ambiguous so it applies to everyone? My mistake!" Hermione snickered.

Draco laughed and clinked his glass against Hermione's in a halfhearted cheers. "Well done, you."

They drank together in silence for a few moments, Draco imagining how much worse off he (and the rest of the poor schmucks) would have been had Granger not been working at the Ministry when RAPE was being written.

"So what's your grand scheme for matching then? I assume it's your idea to oversee the matching process yourself?" Draco asked.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. The entire time Malfoy had been here, his thinking process had been one step ahead. He always seemed to know where she was going next, what was coming. She'd never worked with someone where she didn't have to explain ahead or stop and go back. For a moment, she tried to imagine what they would have been like at Hogwarts if they'd actually joined forces instead of trying to tear each other down. Head Boy and Girl would have been a shoo in for starters. It was a strange alternate universe to try to picture. But exciting to think of being around someone who could have _actually **challenged**_ her.

"Sorry ... got lost in some ... nargles." Hermione loved using Luna's favorite made up creatures as her excuse for losing a train of thought.

"Oookay." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yes. I developed a matching process. It consists of a three step process. First, candidates complete a compatibility survey under the influence of a veritaserum like substance. Quite frankly, sometimes people _say _they want a strong, independent woman who works outside the home, but they really want a submissive, passive, housewife. We want the _real truth _of what people want and _true compatibility _not politically correct answers they think we want to hear."

"Speaking from experience there, Granger?" Draco smirked, thinking of her tabloid splattered breakup with the Weasel.

"Absolutely. Second, there is an arithmancy and potion formula that dictates likelihood of longterm success of both the match and procreation possibilities. Third, there are real life dating exposures."

"Explain."

"This is the area that needs the most flushing out. My proposals were still going through research mode when I was ... unfairly provoked at the Ministry."

"Can you please put the Cormack tea scalding memory in my pensieve for me?"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"It's okay, one of the blokes who was in the room said he'd do it for me if I got him season tickets to the Cannons. Well worth the cost."

"Are you HONESTLY - oh nevermind." Hermione groaned. "My initial thought was that participants would be more engaged and welcoming of their matches if they had real world interactions and exposure to the candidates. I also thought it could be interesting to feature a mixture of experiences from all backgrounds. A sort of cultural exchange while matching. To use muggle dating experiences in addition to a traditional pureblood date."

"Wow, Granger. You've really thought this out. But you've left out something crucial."

"What?"

"If you're going to try to arrange the best marriages the world has ever seen and try your hand at courting and dating rituals, you've forgotten to invite someone to the party."

"Who?"

"One Narcissa Black Malfoy."

"Are you serious?"

"As the avada curse. But Granger - "

"What?"

"If we're including my mother to the research party, can you promise to wear your goddamn clothes? With **me**, clothes remain optional."

"Shut UP, Malfoy."


	8. Tame your own dragon

Narcissa Malfoy was at her heart, loyal. Her biggest fear entering Hogwarts hadn't been that she wouldn't be able to perform a spell correctly, or get her broom to rise when calling "up!" or that she wouldn't make friends. No - Narcissa knew herself well, even at a young age. Her biggest fear had been that she would be placed in Hufflepuff.

She had always been exceptionally loyal to her friends and family - as evidenced by her completely inexplicable standing by of the likes of Bellatrix, not to mention her Dark Lord following idiot husband, Lucius. She was also nervous about her other badger traits. She knew she was hardworking and patient - spending hours learning how to play the perfect classical composition on the piano or tending her magical garden to perfection.

When the sorting hat had hit her head, she had prayed for Slytherin. The hat debated with her for just long enough that there was almost a scandal over whether Narcissa Black was a _hatstall!!_ Thankfully, Narcissa had a streak of Slytherin cunning in her and convinced the hat of her need to be placed in the snakepit. And so avoided being scorched off the Black family tapestry.

Even now, decades later, her incurable loyalty reared its ugly head at the most inconvenient of times.

When her darling Draco owled her and asked for assistance, good ol' Cissy couldn't help showing up. Even when he refused to tell her what it was about. Even when he asked her to floo to meet him at Grimmauld Place of all places. Even when he mentioned in a casual footnote that Hermione "Oh for Heaven's Sake Let Me Fix That Hair" Granger would definitely be there and Harry "Thanks For Saying I Was Dead" Potter might make an appearance.

What does one wear to their former Aunt Walburga's home, that became their blood traitor cousin's home, that now was housing the muggleborn princess of Griffyindor?

Even in her wildest of fantasies, the idea of the Black family princess in muggle denims was laughable.

So here she stood ... at a quarter to tea time ... watching the minute hand tick down on her grandfather clock before she floo-ed into the unknown. She'd decided on a rose gold pencil skirt, floral point toed heels, and a cardigan sweater set from a popular muggle brand named Dior. But at her core, Narcissa was a witch. So she couldn't help wearing ivory bespoke robes atop.

****

Draco was nervous. A less observant witch wouldn't have noticed. But Hermione saw the way his hands clenched slightly at his sides, the way he took an extra half second to answer her. In the last several days, he and Hermione had reached a sort of truce that pulsed between witty banter and complete and utter sexual tension.

But today he was different. Terse. He tried to cover it with a witty retort or quick barb. But they were all a half second too late or a lacking their usual bite. He was distracted. Nervous.

"Draco - bloody hell, I can't take it anymore!" Hermione shrieked.

"What? What's wrong?"

"You! You're wrong! You're nervous and weird and when you make fun of me, it's not even mean!"

"I'm sorry - what? You ... you're upset because I'm not being mean enough? This is a first." Draco looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh, but the hands at his sides has released at least.

"I'm upset because you're not acting like _you_. You're acting like some polite weird robot boy."

"What's a robot?" Draco asked, straight-faced.

"Are you serious?"

"Is that a muggle thing?"

"Oh Merlin's hairy ball sack - we don't have time for robots. Just stop being an ass hat and treat me like normal!"

"What's normal?"

"Like you want to out do me and prove you're smarter. Or you want to go back and forth with quick with until one of us wins the fight. Or like you want to take me - " Hermione sputtered.

Draco's eyebrow cocked and his eyes were the steeliest of grey.

"Take you how, Granger? Take you where, exactly?" His smirk was deadly.

"Oh shut up, you egotistical dragon."

"Make me, you brave lioness."

"You'd like to see that, wouldn't you? I bet you get hard thinking about it - thinking about me shutting up those stupid lips."

"Thinking about my lips, are you, Granger?" Draco stepped closer, their bodies almost touching.

"Only how good they'd look kissing my arse." Hermione stepped closer, staring him in the face.

"It is a _truly fabulous_ arse." Draco leaned in.

"Well. That's quite enough of that foreplay." Narcissa Black Malfoy's steely voice cut through the tension in the room and Hermione and Draco jumped way from each other. "I was told you needed my assistance, but I can't _possibly_ imagine how I would be helpful in this truly sexually tense situation. I quite love you, Draco, darling, but I imagine you've been able to tame your own dragon for quite some time without my help."

After a truly insufferably long pause, Draco walked to his mother, kissing her on both cheeks.

"Mother, thank you for coming. My dragon _and _I are quite ready to move on from this conversation."

Narcissa raised a perfectly coiffed eyebrow with amusement.

"May I reintroduce you to Hermione Granger, brightest witch in the wizarding world?"

"Or wizard. I beat you in all years, dragon tamer." Hermione scoffed. "Mrs. Malfoy - it's a pleasure to see you again. I apologize for my lack of humility. Your son likes to get a rise out of me."

"And you out of him, it appears." Narcissa glanced at Draco's trousers where he'd had a not so unnoticeable hard on mere moments before.

"I like her." Hermione stated simply. "She's perfect."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Mrs. Malfoy - how would you like to help us marry off the next generation of witches and wizards?"


	9. This entire generation is going to hades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience with this story. I know there was a long lull with no writing but I sort of lost where I was going with it. Just trying to plug along and see where it takes me! =)

As much as Hermione may have loved Narcissa Malfoy and her "uptight, stick up my arse, but can still throw a saucy sexual innuendo when you least expect it" persona ... they had a lot of work to do to catch her _and_ Draco up to speed. The early stuff was easy. Hermione had her attack plan. _That_ had been sorted for _months._

They needed all candidates who were working through their matching process (and _not _the Ministry) to agree to work with them exclusively. If their candidates suddenly decided to "bed hop" and try out matching through the Ministry or on their own, or Merlin forbid - all _three!_ \- the data would be skewed and Hermione couldn't deliver what she'd promised them. She couldn't find them the best possible match. 

Thankfully, Hermione's ability to know when someone was being deceitful had only grown since her Hogwarts days. Not only were the confidentiality agreements that everyone signed at the Leaky meeting binding, but they also had an exclusivity cause with some truly dire effects that would alert Hermione at the first deception.

"Honestly," she expressed to Draco and Narcissa (as she'd insisted on being called) - "it's not a matter of **if someone will break the exclusivity clause, **but rather **when**. It's human nature to shop around and I know a small percentage will. I just want to be sure to remove those who do from our pool so they don't taint the data or the matches."

"But how can you be sure to be alerted when it happens?" Narcissa asked. "Even if you think you've created some sort of alarm system, those can be worked around."

"Oh mother, I'm sure Granger here has something more dastardly up her wand sleeve. Don't you, bad girl Granger?" Draco taunted, raising one exceptionally sexy eyebrow at her.

"While I hate to **ever** acknowledge that Draco is correct - in this instance, he is. The consequence of breaking the exclusivity clause is some truly uncomfortable symptoms to his or her nether regions. They will seek me out for the cure."

"I see." Narcissa gave an incredulous nod.

"Why won't St. Mungo's or the Ministry be able to cure them?"

"It's a muggle sexually transmitted disease combined with a few other symptoms of my creation. Even if they happen to be a Muggleborn who received sexual education and training on muggle sexually transmitted diseases - which is _highly unlikely _\- I'm counting on the fact that they'll be too embarrassed, too uncomfortable, or too stymied by the additional symptoms to wait it out. Particularly while ... dating."

"Continue." Draco's grey eyes were a mix of impressed and humored.

"So we need our candidates to stay exclusive to us. Then, they need to commit to all three portions of the matching process. Step One and Two are well sorted."

"Catch up mother, will you? She's late to the party." Draco drawled as he poured himself a firewhiskey.

"A little early for firewhiskey, dragon, no?"

"Granger likes to drink as she works. Blame her. And her satin sheets," Draco grumbled, trying to keep focused.

"Step One is a compatibility survey - " Hermione continued.

"Useless. Everyone lies about what they truly - "

"She's already there, mother. She's dosing them with a veritaserum like substance when they answer." Draco explained.

"Oh. Very well. Well sorted, indeed. Please proceed." Narcissa nodded.

"Step Two is a formula I created to determine likelihood of longterm success of both the match and procreation, using arithemancy and potions techniques."

"Please don't interrupt for questions, mother. I've read it and it's some Severus Snape next level type shit."

"Language, Draco."

"Blame her - she watches American telly."

Narcissa paused, running her eyes over the both of them. Just _how much time_ was Draco spending here? Earlier this morning, she'd watched as he'd made Hermione's breakfast drink with that coffee like contraption. He even added the correct amount of sugar and cream, passing it to her like it was without a second thought.

At lunch, Hermione had made a simple salad, but was sure to leave out the tomatoes before serving Draco. For Merlin's sake, was he sleeping here? It gave her a shiver.

"No one's asking you to stay for the movie marathon, Malfoy. It's not my fault you have no life." Hermione barbed.

"Anyway Narcissa - here is where we really need _your _expertise. Third, we want the candidates to go through real life dating experiences with their final narrowed down match possibilities. We want them to have exposure to each other _prior_ to the final matching, to better plan for longterm success if there is an early bond, and also to expose them to diverse backgrounds. We want the dates to consist of traditional muggle dates as well as traditional pureblood dates." Hermione explained.

"How do the survey results factor in?"

"They will be combined with the formula results to narrow down the candidate pool. But we also want your help in seeing how their survey results can be utilized towards the planning of the dates or to figure out compatibility further in areas where we may have questions."

"How is your pool so far in terms of background?" Narcissa asked thoughtfully.

"It's pretty even, actually. We got a lot of purebloods from Slytherin and Gryffindor - " Hermione started.

"All those goddamn weasels."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"We have a decent amount of Muggleborns from all houses, except Slytherin, obviously."

"I'm surprised you have so many Muggleborns. They have another world they're comfortable in. They have the option to leave." Narcissa said matter of factly.

"If someone asked you to stop magic tomorrow for the rest of your life, how would you feel?" Hermione asked sharply, looking straight into Narcissa and then Draco's eyes.

"Weakened. Like a part of me would be missing. Insecure. Afraid." Narcissa said, quietly.

"Like you asked me to cut myself in half and leave half behind." Draco answered.

"We feel the same. We are muggle**BORNS**. We are **NOT MUGGLES.** How could you _ever_ ask us to go back?"

"I apologize, Hermione. Truly. I did not understand. I was thinking only of friend and familial connections. I did not think - I - I did not think." Narcissa bowed her head, looking ashamed.

"That's our answer anytime anyone _ever_ asks that question, got it?" Hermione said fiercely.

"Got it," Draco and Narcissa said in unison.

"Furthermore, muggleborns have a _terrible time _dating in the Wizarding World. Think about it. Every few minutes you have to stop and explain something. What your parents' professions are. What you learned at school for the first 10 years of your life. What sports are. How you cook your food. It's exhausting. And everyone acts like _you're the strange one. _When there's this entire WORLD out there that none of them have ever even bothered to glance at, let alone explore or get to know."

There was a long pause as the Malfoys took in her words.

"I understand your desire - no rather, _the need for _ \- the cultural immersion aspect of the dating program." Narcissa stated after a moment.

"Thank you. What I need help with are the dates themselves. I have no knowledge of pureblood dating rituals. I don't know a lot of proper Wizarding establishments or have contacts there. I'm running half blind."

"Well - so, it appears, are we." Draco drawled. "We'll do it together."

"I'll get started on the pureblood ideas tomorrow, Hermione." Narcissa nodded, with intent.

"You need help, mother."

"You have to be joking? Do you honestly think there's anything I don't know about pureblood matches?" Narcissa scoffed at Draco.

"You need the younger generation involved. Get Pansy to help you. Things have changed."

"They can't have changed so much since my time."

"Theo Nott is gay and was having regular sex with a Hufflepuff bloke for most of fifth and sixth year. Pansy was bed hopping from me to Blaise to any Quidditch player with a tight arse through most of Hogwarts. There's an underground disco that has a muggle night where you can't get in unless you bring a muggle friend. People like to try a taste of the other side."

Narcissa looked at Hermione in wide eyed wonder.

Hermione shrugged. "Feels right. I'm guessing the Hufflepuff Nott was boning was Ernie Macmillan. He was always trying a _little too hard_ and always a _little too eager _ to show his support of Harry. I'm guessing he was a Potterhead."

"And the Golden Girl nails it in one." Malfoy gave Hermione a high five. Narcissa shot Draco a look that said "Malfoys _do not_ high five."

"After you and I have a long, perhaps overdue, talk about your sexual morality Draco Lucius Malfoy .... it appears we may need one more to assist. And Pansy makes four?"

"And Pansy makes four." They said in unison.

"You know people aren't going to like to see such an uneven planning committee, so to speak." Draco reasoned. "We're getting a little Slytherin heavy. Also - no offense, Granger, but you don't seem to be the type who dates much."

"Thank you?"

"We need a flirty, dating, young, non-Slytherin who people trust."

"And Ginny makes five?"

"And Ginny makes five." They said in unison.

"She's actually perfect," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Because she's dated purebloods, halfbloods, muggleborns. She knows the full spectrum of the dating experience. Just don't tell Harry she's involved in the matching or planning or he'll lose his mind."

"Because he wants to match with her?" Draco asked.

"Circe's tit, no. He wants her in his bed, not as his wife."

"Does she always talk like this? We're really going to have to work on the language," Narcissa groaned.

"It's the firewhiskey," said Draco. "And she only drinks firewhiskey in the company of those she really trusts because it makes her let loose. You should be honored."

"As should you, _apparently_, my dragon," Narcissa raised a perfectly coiffed eyebrow back at him.

"To our matches," Hermione raised her glass as they all clanked glasses.

"So Harry Potter is having sexual relations occasionally with Ginerva Potter, but doesn't want to marry her or procreate with her, even when there's a forced marriage law?"

"Yes." Hermione said.

"And Theo Nott is homosexual and was having sex throughout Hogwarts with another boy - "

"Ernie Macmillan! Cheers to Ernic, that brown-nosing prick!" Hermione shouted, now properly on her way to supremely drunk.

" - at the young age of fifteen or sixteen. And witches and wizards are having sexual one offs with muggles as part of some of dance club theme night."

"Yes." Draco and Hermione said in unison.

"Am I missing anything?" Narcissa used the famous Malfoy drawl.

"Ginny Weasley apparently kind of gets around." Draco shrugged.

"And so does your son. They called him the Slytherin Sex God in school and nicknamed his dick the Basilisk." Hermione smirked.

"This entire generation is going to hades. And you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, are coming with me until we have a serious re-evaluation of your life choices."

"Maybe try some Purel on him. And his nether regions. It's a muggle disinfecting cleaner. Very effective. Burns less than Clorox," Hermione shouted helpfully as Narcissa dragged a half-intoxicated Malfoy through the floo.


	10. Stop Carting a Trouser Snake Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting. It does motivate me so much to get comments. Sorry for the long delay - life has been a little wild in a COVID world.

"Granger."

"Malfoy."

"You owe me."

"You're buggered in the head." Hermione rolled her eyes. "What in Merlin's beard could _I_ possible owe _you _for? I'm not in the habit of engaging in torture, kidnapping, or imprisoning the general populace in dungeons. So point Granger, I think, on the owing front."

Draco sneered and almost growled out, "My _mother_, Granger! My bloody mother! I spent the rest of yesterday half drunk thanks to your firewhiskey and research mode, having potentially the most awkward conversation of my life with my mother."

"What's that got to do with me?" Hermione shrugged.

"Are you barking mad, Granger! Honestly! You're the one who recounted my entire sexual history to the woman and encouraged her to talk to me about my **sexual morality issues!!**"

"Oh. That."

"Yes!" Draco shouted.

"Well - "

"What on earth is going on in here, Mione? You arseholes woke me up." Harry stumbled into the kitchen, waving his wand at the espresso machine.

"Draco's mad that his mom found out he's a man whore."

"From **who, Granger?** From _who_?!? And wait - did you just call me a man whore?"

"If the adjective fits." Hermione smirked.

"And just how the bloody hell do you know so much about my sexual life anyway, Granger?"

"Stop carting a trouser snake around that's so big people call it the Basilisk and people will stop talking about it so much."

"Are you seriously suggesting I change the size of my dick?"

"Kill me now," Harry groaned. "I'm going to vomit."

"Oh please, Potter, like you aren't familiar with dick."

"What in Circe's tit does **that **mean?" Harry shouted.

"You're standing in the house of your gay godfather for Christ's sake."

"Are you talking about Sirius?" Harry asked, stunned. Hermione simply rolled her eyes.

"Are you bloody joking? You saw how he dressed, right?" Draco sneered.

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything. He liked muggle rock music."

"He also liked a certain werewolf's dick in his - "

"Draco, that's _quite_ enough description, thank you." Hermione said primly.

"Hermione," Harry groaned and whined. "Did you hear what he - "

"Harry, dear. I know it's early and you are likely hungover but I need you to take a minute to come to grips with this and move on. Sirius and Remus were together for many, many, many years - probably since school. Romantically. Sexually."

"But Tonks!"

"Is a metamorphmagus who can choose whatever parts she wants that day. Please don't go ballistic. I haven't yet had my espresso. And sometimes, the three of them would spend some ... time ... together."

Hermione took one look at Harry and snickered. "We'll just give you a moment, Harry. Come on, Draco, let's go to the library and sitting room."

Once there, Hermione shot Draco a glare. "You had to scar Harry like that?"

"From what I understood ... Harry Potter was _already_ scarred. And he doesn't seem like a bigot to me so what's the problem."

"He'll be fine. He just needs a minute to adjust his sense of reality." Hermione shrugged.

"I'm sort of missing your knickers sized pajamas, Granger. I'm disappointed."

"Shut it, Malfoy, we have work to do."

With that, Hermione pulled her unruly hair up into a "this means business" loose bun and they deep dove into the abyss.

They were halfway through writing the compatibility survey questionnaire when they realized they needed some big guns. TIme to call in Girl Weasley and the Malfoy Mistress.


	11. Let the truth set you free!

"It can't be more than 100 questions. This is getting absurd." Ginny groaned.

"But there are important issues we've barely gotten the full scope of - " Hermione insisted.

"Granger, that isn't the point of this." Draco groaned.

"Of course it is! The whole **point **of the compatibility survey is to take a large pool and narrow it down based on shared values, desired characteristics and -"

"And you didn't create a one-step process, Granger!" Draco sniped.

"What are you - "

"You purposely created three phases: 1) the compatibility survey, 2) the matching formula and algorithm, and 3) real life exposure through dating candidates. If we wanted to narrow the pool entirely based on the survey, then sure - there are things we left out. But that was never the plan. This is the first phase of eliminating unlikely matches. We still have step two and three."

"He's got a point, Mi." Ginny shrugged.

"But we still haven't even touched upon - "

"There's another factor." Ginny interrupted.

"What?" Hermione said, arms crossed, losing patience.

"Boredom. If this thing is too long, no one will want to finish. We have a captive pool of matching candidates right now and we need to keep them captive. You send them a 60 page survey of their entire life and they will be out. And to have the most successful matches, we need a big pool." 

"The ginger is right. We also don't want the truth telling compulsion to wear off halfway through the survey. Let's get cutting." Draco argued.

A half bottle of firewhisky later and they had a completed survey. They sent it by owl to Narcissa to review to see if she had any suggestions for edits before they began to roll it out.

"So how are we implementing this?" Ginny asked.

"We want a controlled environment where we can ensure the surveys are taken by the person intended and the truth telling charm is in effect. We could schedule appointments for each person to take in an office."

"Boring!" Ginny groaned. "What we need is a mixer in a bar."

"Are you barmy?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's perfect. We'll have booths where they can take the surveys, open bar, and an opportunity to see how people mingle with each other. Maybe get some idea of chemistry for our date matches." Ginny insisted.

"I'm with red. Booze loosens people up and we need them relaxed taking the survey."

After a few edits by Narcissa, the survey was good to go and the night was set. Returning to the Leaky Cauldron two nights from now - let the truth set you free!


	12. On the broom and both snitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if any misspellings or editing issues. I’m writing this on a long car ride (as a passenger, obviously). Thanks for sticking with me as I keep moving Slllllowly on the story

“This is a bit ridiculous, Ginny.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m well past the age when I couldn’t dress myself. I own the biggest stiletto collection in all of Muggle London.”

”Tonight is special. We’re trying to catch a very specific kind of fish.” With that, Ginny took off the blindfold and let Hermione glance at herself.   
  
She had taken one of Hermione’s favorite wrap dresses and charmed it a warm emerald green. Where Hermione would usually apply a sticking charm where it crossed over her chest to avoid too much cleavage, she’d let it rest a little open. 

“My tits are out a bit much, no?” Hermione asked. 

“What part of trying to catch fish do you NOT understand?”

”This dress isn’t going to catch fish. It’s looking better for catching Slytherin snakes.”

”Even better, Mione. Even better. Let’s finish you up and turn you into a snake charmer.”  
  
By the time they’d floo-ed to the Leaky Tavern, Hermione had added her favorite gold stilettos, gold hoop earrings and pulled her curly locks half up. She left the rest of her hair falling loosely down over her shoulders, adding some warm chestnut highlights with a recent charm she’d picked up at a trip to the witches’ salon.

Ginny was subtle as ever in her tightly fitted bondage style black cutout dress and “fuck me” pumps. 

“I thought we were trying to catch husbands, not just get laid,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I need a husband who can handle me in AND out the bedroom. He needs to know what he’s in for.”

”Your brothers are going to Crucio somebody for looking at you too long in that dress.” 

“They’ve seen me dressed in far worse and I’ve got blackmail on all of them. Last time Ron tried to scold me on my wardrobe, I reminded him how he fingered Lavender under the table once at Sunday dinner and asked if mom knew.”

“Very mature of you, as always. Okay, let’s do this!”

***  
Draco stood at the Leaky Tavern brushing off a boatload of shit from Blaise and Theo. 

“I told you already, I’m not going to tell you what the matching questions are. It will skew your data and thus, your results, and thus, your match, and thus, the probability of success from your future marriage.” Draco drawled.

”Stop saying thus. You might as well announce to the whole room that you haven’t been buggered in a millennium.” Blaise said in a bored monotone.

”Hey! I don’t GET buggered, you arse. I DO the buggering!” Draco said, suddenly catching on to Blaise’s dig.

”Whatever you say, Malfoy. But if you want to break your buggering streak, Tracy Davis has been eying you like a dog eying a bone.” Blaise nodded.

”Not interested.”

”She’s a half blood. She’d qualify as a match for you.” Blaise watched Draco carefully.

”Not interested.” Draco tried to take a casual sip of his drink.

”You have your eye on someone else, Drake?” Theo asked.

”Not as such.”

”How IS it going with Granger, then? Working together?” Blaise asked, suddenly interested.

”Fine. My mother and Girl Weasley are helping too.”

”and -“

”Blaise - stop.” Draco looked around and sneered.

”I don’t -“ Blaise started.

”You’re like a shark sniffing out blood in the water. Stop. There’s nothing there.” Draco’s voice was cutting, leaving no room for discussion.

”Do sharks sniff?” Theo asked curiously, sipping a fire whiskey.

”For Circle’s Sake, I need new friends.” Draco groaned.

”If you say nothing is going on, Drake, of course I believe you.” Blaise said smoothly.

”Thank you.” Draco said cautiously.

”So if there’s nothing going on, you won’t mind if Theo or I explore a possible match with Granger, would you? Only so many eligible brilliant, beautiful, talented non pureblood women to match with, you know?”

”I will avada you both where you stand.” Draco said fiercely and darkly.

“Ooookay.” Theo said, eyes wide at he looked at a smirking Blaise.

”And I will use the sectumsemptra curse on all of your man parts.” Draco said, staring his steely grey eyes into theirs.

”Merlin’s beard, Draco. That seems unnecessarily graphic.” Theo groaned.

”On the broom and both snitches. Cut ‘em right to bits.” Draco said calmly.

”Hello Draco! How are you? Did you just get here? Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t see your friends -“ Hermione blabbered as she entered and came upon Draco.

Draco took one look at her in her rich emerald glory, sparkling gold accessories, hair just wild enough and shining bright. He said

“Oh they don’t to talk to you, Hermione. They’re terribly rude, as a rule. And prejudiced. Still hate Muggleborns, the lot of them. Hoping to match with half bloods but I’m working on rehabilitating their prejudicial attitudes. Come on, let’s get you that cocktail you like.” 


	13. Your blasted quiz is broken

"Miiiiooneeee!! Your blasted quiz is broken!!" Ron shouted from his compatibility survey booth.

"You're supposed to take the quiz uninterrupted and in privacy, Ronald." Hermione groaned.

"It says I can ask for assistance from a proctor! Huh huh. Proct-her" Ron hiccuped.

"How many drinks have you had? That doesn't even make sense!" Hermione rolled her eyes. "What _exactly_ is the _problem_?"

"It is **broken**."

"How?"

"I keep trying to answer something and then this blasted quill writes in something completely different."

"Give me an example."

Ron sputtered, turning red. "No."

"Let me guess." Hermione grinned.

"No, please Merlin's beard - Circe's tit, no." Ron slammed his head on the booth's writing desk.

"You're trying to write that you want an independent working women who feels comfortable choosing to work outside the home."

"Yes!"

"And inside it's writing - "

"I want a stay at home wife and mother whose first priority is building a loving family home, who loves cooking, and wants to raise multiple children. A woman who is a natural caretaker and wants the husband to be the head of household in all things outside of childrearing." Ron spit out, shocked.

"It's not broken."

"Mione!"

"That's what you want, Ronald. It may not be what you **want to THINK** you want. But it's what you want."

"But I - "

"And there's nothing wrong with that. You and your future wife need to be aligned in all things - sexually, romantically, and especially family values. If you want to be the head of your household and have a partner who would be truly fulfilled raising children and keeping a home, then that's great. And that's what you should be looking for in your match."

"But - "

"Just because I wasn't those things doesn't mean you should look for anything different. We both deserve our perfect match. And this survey is the first step in allowing that to happen. Okay?" Hermione said, calmly.

"Okay." Ron shrugged. Seemingly at ease. But then he sat up suddenly. "But Mione!! The sexual questions - "

"The quill doesn't lie, Ron. Let it happen."

***

"Drake, this bloody quiz is utter bollocks." Pansy poked Draco in the stomach hard.

"It's really not."

"The things that quill wrote!"

"Are true."

"They are absolutely not - "

"Anything you would willingly admit out loud if not impacted by a true compulsion spell."

"Ughhhh!!! Why you little - "

"Why Pansy, my dear. You seem ... _frustrated_. What are you going to **do about it**, **_spank me?_**" Draco snickered.

"Why you little - "

"Quill never lies, Parkinson. But lucky for you, all results are confidential.


End file.
